


Family Planning

by Useless19



Series: MegOP Week [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mech Preg (Transformers)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useless19/pseuds/Useless19
Summary: "What happened?" Optimus managed."Do you not remember?" Megatron said, amused. "You should do something about this habit of amnesia you've picked up."For MegOP week, Day 2: Domestic
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Series: MegOP Week [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593355
Comments: 6
Kudos: 142
Collections: MegOP Week 2020





	Family Planning

Optimus was warm.

It wasn't an unusual situation for him to online in after a long recharge. The base was prone to cold drafts and, when energon was scarce, the rest of the Autobots often made use of Optimus's larger engine and all the excess heat it gave off.

Optimus checked his fuel tank level. It returned a rather confusing -7.3335%. His sensors must be glitching from low fuel.

Ratchet was going to kill him for allowing his tanks to run dry.

Speaking of Ratchet, Optimus became aware of a heavy hand stroking down his back as well as the regular vents of a mech beneath his face.

Optimus allowed his optics to online slowly — partly because it was more fuel-efficient to reach the required brightness level at a sedate pace and partly to put off the lecture he knew was coming. He was warm and comfortable and would prefer to stay that way.

Optimus lazily nuzzled against his berthmate as his processor started to notice little incongruities. His navigational systems were convinced he wasn't in Jasper, Nevada, though they were currently unable to give him an updated location. The frame beneath his own was too large to belong to any of his Autobots — servos too broad, legs too long, engine too loud.

Then Optimus's optics reached sensible light levels and he noticed that the plating against his face was a uniform silver, not white and orange or green or yellow.

"Rhkfjks," Optimus's vocaliser spat as he tried to push himself up.

Megatron's arm easily held him down. "Enough is enough, Optimus, though I must admit: I'm surprised at your _endurance_."

Optimus went still, processor whirling as fast as it could on fumes. Their position was a compromising one, Megatron's tone insinuating, and, now that his sensors were beginning to flicker online, Optimus could feel that he was… _sticky_.

He rebooted his vocaliser and queued up the words slowly.

"What happened?" Optimus managed.

"Do you not remember?" Megatron said, amused. "You should do something about this habit of amnesia you've picked up."

"We interfaced," Optimus said, sure of the fact, but struggling to put forth the right question.

"We did. Many times." Megatron, as always, decided to be supremely unhelpful.

"Why?"

"You really don’t remember?" Megatron laughed. "Are your tanks so low you can’t even access your short-term memory banks?"

Optimus felt the un-Primely urge to punch Megatron in the face purely because of the smugness in his voice. He didn’t — mostly because he didn’t think he could power his arm that much.

"Megatron." Optimus decided that his pride couldn’t be damaged further, given his current status and added, "please."

"I went into heat," Megatron said, tone one step away from defensive. "I escaped Dreadwing’s attentions and none of the Vehicons can match my speed in the air. However, upon finding a convenient cave to ride out the problem, I also found you."

Ah, yes, Optimus had gone for a drive to have some peace and quiet — he could remember that much. His transfluid reserves sent back a 0% indicator when he pinged them for status, which backed up Megatron’s claim of heat.

Mostly.

"I cannot believe that you could not outrun me too," Optimus said, managing to turn his head just enough to look Megatron in the optics.

"That relies on the assumption that I wanted to run from you." Megatron scraped a claw down Optimus’s back making him shiver with more emotions than he could currently process. "You are the Prime. The only mech who has ever been close to my equal. Why would I _not_ want you?"

Megatron reached away while Optimus was trying to come up with a response that wasn’t just ‘ _really? me?_ ’ and plucked up a full cube of energon. He slit the corner with a practised flick of his claws and pressed it to Optimus’s mouth.

"It’s not poisoned," Megatron promised.

Optimus didn’t care if it was. It was good, clean fuel — he hadn’t tasted the like since Ratchet’s well-used and well-mended energon refinery had finally given up the ghost a few centuries ago.

It tasted like Cybertron. It tasted like _home_.

Optimus was glad he was too exhausted to cry.

Several of his protocols and subroutines came back online now he wasn’t on emergency backup power. His fuel level indicator sent back a sensible 4.7% full message when Optimus asked this time.

Perhaps sensing his still-empty tanks, Megatron gave him another cube when the first was finished. This one Optimus was able to clumsily hold to his mouth. With the fresh surge of energy, Optimus’s processor was able to bring up the questions he’d previously been unable to form.

"Why were you in heat?" he asked. "Standard wartime functioning is for all combatants to be sterile."

"Knock Out thinks it’s due to how close I came to death last year." Megatron resumed his soft petting down Optimus’s back. Optimus tried not to melt into a puddle of warm contentment. "That my war protocols were reset upon my revival — that’s what I deduced from his comments before he was overcome by my scent."

"I should not… I have not fallen victim to a rut since I received the Matrix," Optimus said.

Megatron laughed. "I’m too irresistible for you, clearly."

Optimus rather thought it was due to the strange sting of dark energon he could sense in Megatron’s frame, but didn’t comment in favour of taking another cube when Megatron offered.

"I apologise for my part in this," he said instead, once he’d drunk half the cube. He experimented with sitting up and found he could, but Megatron tugged him back down and it was too comfortable not to let him cuddle for a bit longer. "If I have struck a spark —"

"You’ll what?" Megatron interrupted sharply. "Expect shared custody? Move into the _Nemesis_ to help raise it? Expect me to become an Autobot?"

"I do not know." Optimus shut his optics. "However, is this not a good excuse to begin peace talks? We have fought for so long, Megatron, can we not try peace? For a sparkling’s — even a potential sparkling’s — sake?"

Megatron stilled.

"You know that’s impossible, Optimus."

"Is it?" Optimus put his hand flat against Megatron plating. He was so warm and Optimus could swear he felt the static pulse of a newspark beneath heavy armour.

Megatron cupped the back of Optimus’s helm with a heavy, clawed servo. For a moment, Optimus’s threat detection protocols flagged it up as a danger, but then Megatron’s other servo started stroking Optimus’s back again.

"We could stop the war," Megatron said, testing the words carefully. "The Decepticons would listen to me — the important ones anyway — and the Autobots would take you at your word. Together we could rebuild Cybertron."

"Yes, we could."

"We would both be necessary to a fully functioning Cybertron," Megatron continued. "But we would have time for ourselves and the sparkling. Time to relax and just exist, without wartime and troop management to distract us. Time to become reacquainted in _every_ way. Is that what you want, Optimus?"

Optics still clenched closed, Optimus nodded against Megatron’s chest.

"You could even pass on the Matrix. There was that one flashy Autobot car who passed the tests on Golaucoll Three," Megatron said.

"Megatron —" Optimus’s vents hitched.

"Shh." Megatron petted Optimus’s antennae. "Rest, Optimus, it will be over soon."

Too tired to argue and sluggish with higher-grade energon than his systems were used to, Optimus slipped into recharge. It had been so long since he felt _safe_ and he shouldn’t now, not with Megatron _right there_.

And yet…

* * *

Megatron waited until Optimus's venting cycle lengthened and his engine settled into a steady thrum, before extracting himself from their warm embrace. It was all too easy, with Optimus's systems prioritising extraction of energon from his freshly full tanks over threat warning.

It took more willpower than he'd expected to leave Optimus slumbering alone in the cave, but Megatron was no weak-strutted mech.

Not even with the new fullness in his spark.

Soundwave was waiting outside, barely a shadow in the setting sunlight. He displayed the current galactic standard time for Megatron to check his chronometer against.

"Thank you, Soundwave. And for the energon too."

Megatron braced himself to transform and fly back to the _Nemesis_ , but before he could move, Soundwave held up a hand to stop him.

"What is it?"

Soundwave pointed at the cave entrance.

"Optimus? Leave him," Megatron said. "I may yet have further use of him."

Uses that were _definitely_ not based on how nice Optimus's spike felt or how good his valve might feel now Megatron's heat was over and he had a clearer processor.

Soundwave halted Megatron before he could take off again. He opened a Ground Bridge and gestured for Megatron to proceed through.

"I am capable of flight," Megatron said, starting to grow annoyed.

Soundwave tapped a long finger against Megatron's chest, right over his spark.

"— _transforming isn't really recommended for new carriers, at least until the newspark is established enough to take the strain_ —" said a long-deactivated medic through Soundwave's speakers.

"I'm not going to keep a Prime's kindling," Megatron snapped.

Soundwave waited. The Ground Bridge swirled turquoise-white behind him. Megatron changed the filters in his optics and saw that it led to the medical bay, not the bridge or even his own quarters where he could get rid of the physical evidence of the past several hours.

The image of Optimus looking all wonderstruck inserted itself into Megatron's processor. _He_ would keep a newspark, even one of Megatron's code.

Not that Megatron was going to keep this one, however he wasn't going to let it snuff out by chance. When he got rid of it — and he _was_ going to get rid of it — it would be because he _chose_ to.

He stepped into the Ground Bridge. His peripheral sensors picked up the near-silent sound of Soundwave’s transformation as his third in command flew off to give him some relative privacy.

Knock Out was waiting in the medbay. A pile of hastily tidied paint supplies cluttered one of the worksurfaces and the half-finished wet paint on one of Knock Out’s doors told Megatron exactly what he’d been doing, despite being on-call at this time of day.

"Lord Megatron," Knock Out said brightly. "I see you found someone to take care of your little problem. I take it you want the standard scan, flush, and buff? In whatever order suits you, of course."

"Scan first, starting with the state of my spark," Megatron decided.

"Right away, Lord Megatron."

Knock Out was professional — suspiciously so. Perhaps he thought it was the best way to avoid repercussions for his earlier actions. Megatron had no intentions to punish any of his Decepticons for attempting to relieve his heat — he was clearly an ideal carrier and it wasn’t like any of them had been successful — however, if it meant less lip, he’d allow them to think he would for the time being.

"Ah! There we go." Knock Out tapped his scanner with a grin. " _Secondary spark signature found_. No wonder you’re already out the other side, Lord Megatron. I’ll check your valve for damage and viruses, then I can prep the flusher."

"No," Megatron said, his mouth moving before his processor caught up.

Knock Out raised an optic ridge. "Do you… _want_ to keep it, my liege?"

Did he?

Megatron wasn’t used to second-guessing himself, but the image of Optimus in his arms, shaking slightly and completely desperate for Megatron’s glib words to be true, would not leave his processor.

"Make sure it will not be affected by nor affect the dark energon within my spark," Megatron said. "And run a check for possible complications of it being sired by a Matrix-bearer, but leave it alone. For now."

Knock Out’s other optic ridge joined the first. "The Prime? You certainly don’t do anything by halves, Lord Megatron." He quickly brought his scanner back up when Megatron glared at him. "Commencing newspark scan, now."

"It will be a tool to defeat the Autobots. Nothing more."

The words felt like a lie.

Damn Optimus. Damn him and damn the newspark and _damn Megatron_ for deciding not to run.

Damn them all to Unicron’s Pit.

At least it meant there was a good chance of round two, Megatron reflected.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi over at [transformersvn.tumblr.com](https://transformersvn.tumblr.com) where I make Transformers visual novels.


End file.
